


The Truth the Way you See It.

by linda92595



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/pseuds/linda92595
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Dean/Castiel Secret Santa Exchange for WarpMinded’s prompt Prison Human AU Castiel has been in prison since he was 19. He is now 29 and he meets his new cellmate, Dean Winchester, who struts around like he owns the place and now he wants Castiel too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth the Way you See It.

**Author's Note:**

> M/M sex, masturbation, some mentions of past child abuse, mentions of attempted rape, angst, prison violence, hurt/comfort

“Fresh fish!” the call echoed throughout the cell block as the big old rat-trap buses rattled into the driveway and pulled to a halt just outside the administration building. The days new arrivals showed up at Granville Maximum Security Prison were always greeted with much enthusiasm from the incarcerated. Anything that broke the never-ending monotony of the place was always greeted with much enthusiasm. He should know he’d been here just about as long as the buildings have been standing. And he had seen them all come and go over the years. His name was Rufus, Rufus Turner, and he was the guy who knew how to get things done in there. Most of the guys figured that out after a while.

Ask anybody and they’d tell you he’d been here for almost as long as the prison has existed. He was what was cheerfully known as a lifer. He had been in prison longer than he’d lived his life outside those walls now. Most folks guessed he’d die there too. Turner had seen things done and done things that no man should ever have to see. He’d heard it all too. Heard how most of the folks who came through those wall were innocent, how they‘d got screwed by the system, how society made them what they were. Its bullshit, but he let it slide off him like water slides off a duck. There’s only one guy in here who he ever thought got a raw deal.

He was sitting across the yard from the old man right now staring out at the buses like they were the answer to all his prayers. The old man sighed maybe they were, but like the old man said the boy was the only guy that he thought never shoulda been there. His name was Castiel James Allen Novak, and ain’t that a mouthful? Boy’s been there going on ten years of a fifteen year stretch. But that was his story to tell, ain’t none of the old man’s business. He didn’t put him there and he damn sure couldn’t get him out.

“Fresh fish!” the cries were growing stronger now. Turner could see the others gravitating toward the fifteen foot chain link fence that separated the exercise yard from the main entrance to the prison. The various gangs who populated the yard at any given time took up their chosen spots along the fence leaving the outsiders to linger behind. The boy Turner was talkin’ ‘bout earlier was hanging on the ramshackle bleachers that dotted the multi-purpose hunk of weed strewn clay and half-dead grass that served alternately as a football or soccer field depending on how many balls the guards could be troubled to find in the equipment shed.

As the chanting reach a crescendo Rufus maneuvered his way around the end of the line past the tattooed Aryans, grateful it no longer amused them to torment him, and shoved past some of the younger newbies who had been dropped off last time the bus rolled in and watched the performance about to happen.

The first guy off the bus was a hulking ugly brute, bald head gleaming in the late afternoon sun, who was heavily shackled. The guy standing next to Turner grunted, “Bet nobody wants to play drop the soap with that sucker, mother is one ugly dude.”

The old man felt the soft swoosh of air being displaced and jumped, cringing as he swung around. Blue eyes caught his gaze and he uttered a sigh. It was him, Cas. He didn’t say anything about the guy next to Rufus.  But his comment about playing drop the soap must have stung. This boy had plenty of experience with that being as he was one of the pretty ones, one of the ones who got way too much attention. He was nineteen the day he walked off that bus into a world of hurt he didn’t deserve. Not by anyone’s reckoning.

The second body off the bus was trouble incarnate. The old man made a soft tsking sound as the blonde strutted up the steps like he was cock of the walk. Well plenty of time for someone in here to take him down a peg, but Rufus frowned thinking that maybe under all the bluff and swagger there was substance. Castiel stiffened next to the old man and Rufus jerked around. There was a strange look on the boy’s face, one that didn’t bear thinking too hard about.

The new arrivals were herded en masse to the Admin building and the men standing by the fence issued a disappointed grunt shuffling off to their various corners as the guards hollered ‘Break it up, shitheads!’ through the chain link fence.

Cas moved slowly across the yard tugging a pack of cigarettes out of his coverall pockets and patting himself down for a lighter. Rufus followed along with a bemused look on his face finally taking pity on the young man and fishing his own Bic lighter out of his trouser pocket shoving it at Castiel. Grinning the younger man bent low, hands cupped around the cigarette as the flame touched the end flaring brightly and a thin curl of gray smoke haloed his head.

Inhaling deeply he leaned back closing his eyes. Rufus stared at him a minute, a strangely familiar longing curling in his own belly then the old man shook his head fingers closing around the lighter as he glanced at the now empty driveway in beyond the fence.  Suddenly a car swept into Rufus’s view. Turning his head he slipped away from the bleachers trundling across the yard, narrowly avoiding being plowed down by the soccer players. He took up his perch on the chain link fence again watching silently.

A girl stepped out of the car, young, pretty blonde, and glanced nervously at the doors of the administration building. A few moments later a man emerged from the doors, the warden and the head guard flanking him. He paused turning as the warden caught his arm, and Rufus sneered.  The warden gave every newly released con his patented ‘You’ve done your time, now live your life’ speech as the con was released. Sighing the old man sank down against the fence heedless of the cries of ‘off the fence old timer’ from the nearest guard. When he turned around again the warden was finished with his speech. Well, it was something that Rufus figured he would never have to listen to.

It was half past noon and at mid-day meal when they saw any of the newbies again. Rufus was sitting at the head table, one of the perks of being the guy who could get things for you, with Castiel as his every present shadow when the new guys strolled in. The blonde Rufus had spotted coming off the bus was at the head of the pack, just like the old man thought he would be. All smarmy grin and bluff attitude. The big, bald ugly sucker who came on the bus with him was tagging along behind the group looking over the fellows sitting around the dining hall like they were the main course instead of the tough meatballs in runny gravy and the lumpy things that might have been potatoes. Big, bald and ugly spotted Castiel right off the bat. With a grin he sauntered that way coming to a halt just beside Cas’ chair. The smaller man tipped the legs of the chair back looking up at the brute’s face but before he could even say a word the blonde was right there, hands on the big man’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so.” He said fingers digging into the round curve of the bigger man’s shoulders, squeezing nice and easy. But the effect on the larger man was instantaneous. He cringed going to his knees, tears springing up in his eyes. Castiel let out a half choked shout as the giant toppled over like a tree in a hurricane. The blonde grinned, tipping an invisible hat, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

Rufus watched the blonde swagger to the head of the line before turning back to his meal, “That one’ll be trouble for sure.” Castiel frowned down at his plate before pushing it away, but the older man just pushed it right back. “Eat up son, might not get another chance.”

With an annoyed glare Cas forked up some springy meatballs shoving them into his mouth, “There happy?”

Shaking his head Rufus grunted, “Smartass.”

By that time the blonde was back the big brute was just rolling to his feet. He shook his head like a stunned animal then leaned back cracking both shoulders with resounding pops. The blonde grinned swerving around the big man and sliding deftly into a chair beside Castiel. Rufus watched through slitted eyes as the blonde stuck out a hand then glanced meaningfully at it. Castiel just stared before the other man leaned over taking his hand and giving it a shake, “Name’s Winchester…Dean Winchester and you would be?”

“Leaving,” Castiel said tugging his hand free, side stepping the ugly brute who by now was thoroughly riled up. Rufus gulped the last few mouthfuls of his lunch and slid out from the table. Quickly he hustled to the door where Cas was standing turning just in time to see the big man launch himself at Winchester. 

It was short, brutal and ugly. And when it was over Winchester was standing over the still, bleeding bruised body of the hulk with that damned smirk still on his face. Castiel was standing mouth agape just staring across the expanse of the lunch table unblinking. Rufus felt his own jaw drop, and then he shook his head.

“Did you see that?” he whispered to Castiel. The younger man nodded. “That was special forces training. That guy was a Marine or something. I ain’t seen nothin’ like that since I got back from Nam.”

The guards hustled past and both Cas and Rufus moved aside to avoid being mowed down. The tallest of the three guards, Alistair by name, grinned widely as he pulled his baton, but Winchester gave no sign of resisting not that that stopped Alistair from swinging the baton and cracking the other man a good one across the shoulders. Winchester staggered but before the guard could strike him again the head guard pushed past fastening his handcuffs on the prisoner and hustling him off to the warden’s office.

Alistair gave Castiel an appreciative glance as the hustled past and the smaller man shrank back almost hiding behind Rufus. The old man grunted staring down at the floor but he kept himself squarely between the two other men and Alistair growled softly as the guards hustled Winchester out the door.

When the noise had died down and the medics had collected the big man onto a gurney and headed off to the medical ward Castiel and Rufus made their way back to Gen Pop.

Gen Pop or the General Population Bay was the main section of the West wing of Granville Maximum Security Prison. Each one of the four wings was of identical design and housed the same number of inmates. Castiel had been in the East wing when he first arrived, the wing specifically for juvenile offenders. He had stayed there for the first two years of his sentence, and then was transferred to Gen Pop in West wing at the age of twenty-one. And he had been here for the past eight years.

For the last five of those eight years Frank Crowley had been Castiel’s cellmate. So when he got back to their cell he was surprised to see Crowley in the process of packing up his belongings. The few things that the older man had managed to keep over the years were being carefully bundled into a small leather back-pack. Crowley was an art dealer who had turned art forger and ended up doing a five year stretch here at Granville.

He and Castiel had been cellmates and they had developed a mutual dislike for each other almost on sight. But Crowley’s British accent and cultured mannerisms had made him a target just as Castiel’s natural beauty had made him. So they coexisted and clung to each other out of necessity.

Cas watched Crowley bundled the last few items into the back-pack then quietly zip it close. “So where are you going, Crowley?”

“Didn’t you hear, sweetheart? I got my parole.”  Crowley said with a smile. He sounded anything but contrite. With a shark-like grin he hefted the bag onto one shoulder.  “I do hope you enjoy your new roommate.”

“Bastard,” Castiel huffed out. But the older man just waved him away. With a glare the younger man settled onto his bunk staring at the water-stained plaster of the wall. Carefully he walked around cell perimeter to the sink running a cup of water. The upper bunk had already been stripped, by the inmate charged with housekeeping for the day, in preparation for the arrival of Castiel’s new cellmate. He frowned Crowley had been a bastard, whiney and demanding always taking the choice times for shaving, napping or using the toilet for himself but at least he has left Castiel on his own. He had never tried anything with the younger man either. And god knows that was rare. Castiel steeled himself to the appearance of the new guy.

He didn’t have long to wait.

A few minutes after Crowley’s departure there was a clanking of doors at the far end of the corridor followed by the thud of boot-heels on the linoleum floors. Finally, the footfalls fell silent and Castiel glanced up. Standing in the doorway was Alistair and the younger man shuddered. The guard sneered before stepping aside reveling Dean Winchester smirking for all he was worth. Castiel rose to his feet walking the few feet from his bunk to the door.

Alistair cracked his baton against the bars of the cell causing Castiel to jerk involuntarily. Quickly he backed away and the second guard moved forward keys rattling as he slipped the handcuffs off the prisoner in his care. Winchester was standing in the door and Castiel swallowed hard feeling a lump rise to his throat. He backed away quickly as the other man lugged his belongings into the cell and set about making his bed.

Castiel settled back down on his bunk watching the other man out of the side of his eyes. When the bed was made to his satisfaction Winchester turned carefully stowing the few belongings he had into the drawers beneath the bunk. Turning he sat down on the bed staring across the aisle.  Castiel took a deep breath letting his gaze rest on the other man’s face. A slow tingle of electricity settled into the pit of his stomach crawling up the length of his spine and sitting his head buzzing.

Winchester rose stalking across the cell and dropping into a crouch. Reaching out he grasped both of Castiel’s knees in his hands. The smaller man shuddered trying to bring his legs closed. But the other man settled down on the ground. He gazed upward viridian eyes locked onto deep electric blue.

“You’re gonna be mine Cas.”

Castiel let out a mirthless little chuckle, “You’re not the first, if that’s what you’re thinking, Winchester.”

“Dean… call me Dean.”

The smaller man grunted but Dean rose half way from his crouch hand cupping Castiel’s jaw, “Come on…say it. Say my name.”

With a shiver Castiel sighed eyes slipping close, “Dean…” he hissed. The jubilant cry that the other man uttered caused his eyes to snap open and he gazed deeply at Dean’s face. Dean settled back on his heels staring up at Castiel in silent fascination.

“See that wasn’t so hard.” Dean settled back thumping onto the floor. Castiel sat on the edge of his bunk staring down at the other man when Dean jerked up right causing the smaller man to flinch away. Frowning Dean said, “Don’t do that. I don’t know what happened to you before, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t want too.”

Shooting Castiel a smarmy grin he added, “Believe me I won’t have too.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes pushing at the other man’s hands, rising to his feet and walking to the cell door. Dean turned to follow watching every little move that the smaller man made. Finally Castiel turned back a tiny grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “We’ll see about that, Winchester.”

Chuckling gleefully he slipped out of the cell as the guard hollered down the corridor for assembling in the dining hall for dinner.

Rufus sighed as he loaded another heaping basket of reeking bed linens into the huge heavy duty washer. He had learned as Winchester was learning that prison life consisted of a series of monotonous tasks interspersed with minutes of mind-numbing terror when things went south. And they did that about once a month at Granville.

Winchester, Dean…, as Rufus had grudgingly learned to call him over the course of the last few weeks the younger man had been, there was loading the industrial dryers with the bed linens the inmates washed for the local hotels when another inmate, Ash by name, came hustling in face a pasty white.

Ignoring Dean the younger man hustled over to Rufus, “Cas is in the infirmary, again.”

The old man flinched, “What the hell happened this time? That bastard Alistair come after him again?”

Ash shook his head, “Naw…I think the warden put the fear of something into him. It was that big ugly sucker. He took after Cas in the machine shop, but you know Cas. He ain’t much of fighter but he’s damned quick when he has to be. The big guy got a few shots in before Cas hightailed it outta there though. Think he’s got a busted wrist.”

Dean glared at the newcomer, “Are they keeping him in the sick ward or is he going back to Gen Pop?”

“Hell if I know.”

When Dean growled Ash held up a placating hand, “They’ll probably keep him in sick ward over night.”

Once the young man has scurried out on his way to resume the mail rounds Rufus settled on a stool wiping a hand over his brow. Dean leaned one hip against the folding table staring down at the older man. Finally Rufus glance up and embarrassed scowl on his face, “My Gloria and me always wanted us a boy. I guess I sorta got attached to him, that’s all.”

Dean nodded then jerked his shoulders back, “Hey I ain’t sayin’ nothin’. So does this happen often to most guys in here?”

Rufus shrugged, “Some guys try it once and a while. Mostly on the young guys or the newbies. But Cas, that boy was always just a little too pretty for his own good. But he gets by, just like the rest of us.”

Dean settled onto the edge of the table, “So why’s Cas in here anyway?”

“Ain’t my story to tell.” Rufus said shuffling to his feet. “Come on Winchester, these damned clothes won’t fold themselves.”

“Aww, come on Rufus. Why is a guy like Cas in prison?”

“Killed his stepdaddy.”

“Cas killed somebody?’ Dean gaped. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true. He admitted as much at the trial. All along he never said he didn’t do it.” Rufus said. “Of course I don’t blame him. The guy was a real bastard; beat the boy black and blue for ten years. But when he started in on Cas’ mama that’s when the boy broke. Stabbed the bastard in the chest then called the police after his old man died.”

Rufus began quickly folding the sheets they had washed, “Won’t matter much anyway. He comes up for parole next month. I hope he makes it.”

“So,” Dean said as he grasped one of the sheets and began folding, “How long have you been here?”

Rufus glanced up, “Long time…I reckon goin’ on thirty some years now.”

With a grin Dean shook his head, “Jeeze here I thought five years was a long time.”

“Five, for what?”

The younger man shrugged then Dean grinned, “Grand theft. I stole a car. It wasn’t much of a car or else I wouldn’t be here. But I pulled five years for grand theft auto. Way I see it is what with overcrowding and budget issues I’ll be out in two, two and a half tops.”

“Who do you think you are Lindsey Lohan?” Rufus chuckled at his own joke and Dean snorted. But he turned back to the table fishing out another sheet.  “You’re probably right though.”

“Anyway why’re you in here for all that time?”

Now the old man sighed again lifting the basket of finished sheets and sitting it aside, “That is my story to tell, and I’ve got no intentions of tellin’ it to you, Winchester.”

Dean was working out a way to get into the infirmary to see Castiel when he got off work before dinner, but the other man was in the cell resting on his bunk with one long leg folded up against his chest. It looked like a particularly uncomfortable position to lie in but Dean was appreciative of the fact that the other man seemed so bendy. His right wrist was wrapped in a beige elastic bandage so Dean smiled, ‘You okay?” he asked.

Castiel half-heartedly raised his hand waving it in the air. “Yep…not broken just twisted. I’m riding a Vicodin high right now though. At least they don’t skimp on the good stuff.”

“You feel up to going to dinner?”

Castiel shrugged but unfolded his leg and stood stretching his back until it cracked loudly. With a sigh he ambled unsteadily over to Dean and the larger man slid a hand halfway around Castiel’s waist pressing into the small of his back to shore him up.

Later that night as the last lights faded and the cell block settled into a muted whisper Dean sat on Castiel’s bunk beside him watching as the other man thumbed through an ancient book with a torn binding. The book was thick worn and dog-eared with some brown stains on the yellowing pages, “what’re you doing, Cas/?”

“Studying, I’m working on my last class and my final is tomorrow.”

“Final for what?”

“Law school. When I get out I can take the bar exam and maybe make a living as a lawyer.” Castiel sighed. Dean settled in beside him. “I was nineteen when got here... I did two years in juvie and then got transferred here as soon as I turned twenty-one. But I finished high school and then got a degree in economics on-line. For the past four years I’ve been taking law school classes on-line or sometimes a teacher comes in and teaches in the lecture hall.”

“There’s a lecture hall?”

Castiel nodded, “Well, it’s kinda an all purpose room. The padre uses it as a church on Sundays for service. I go sometimes.”

The clocking of boot heels on the linoleum caught their attention and Dean slipped out of Castiel’s bunk and flopped down on his own. He lay still waiting for the guard to move past their cell and down the corridor before creeping quietly back to the other man’s bunk. Castiel slid over and Dean slipped under the covers with him.

He skimmed a hand down the smaller man’s arm then let it drop to his hip. Cas rolled over onto his back tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers pushing them down. Grinning Dean slid his hand over the fine downy hair leading from Castiel’s navel to his groin and further down cupping the other man’s balls in one large warm palm. Cas sighed before reaching up to tug at Dean’s own shorts, pushing them down past his hips to the knee. Dean shuffled around as much as he could half swaddled in his underwear before leaning down blowing a warm puff of air over Castiel’s half-hard cock. The smaller man hardened right away.

Dean grunted when Cas’s long, slim fingers raked through the wiry curls at his groin then wrapped around his eager cock. A bead of pre-come pearled on the tip and Castiel wiped it away with the edge of his thumb smearing it over the head of Dean’s cock.

“Don’t be a tease, Cas.’ Dean hissed. Castiel chuckled, a low dirty sound in the dim lighting. Quickly he rolled forward leaning down and taking Dean’s cock full into his mouth. Dean uttered a half-strangled shout and Cas pulled off with a pop.

“Be quiet, if we get caught it’s a week in solitary, and one of the warden’s lectures on sin. I don’t know which sucks worse.”

“I just wish you get to sucking.”

Castiel chuckled again, “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Yeah,” Dean snorted, “I want your mouth on me, now.”

Finally Castiel leaned down licking a long stripe up the center of Dean’s cock before swallowing the head. Dean jerked cursing softly under his breath as Castiel set a quick pace sucking fervently. It wasn’t too long before Dean felt the familiar heat pooling in his belly and he erupted in Castiel’s mouth. The other man turned his head and spat onto the floor.

Wrestling the smaller man around until he was flat on his back Dean hovered over Cas before sucking him down quickly. Castiel writhed and moaned softly beneath the larger man as Dean worked his cock efficiently sucking on the tip and stripping the length with one hand. When Castiel was almost incoherent Dean slipped a finger into his own mouth slicking the digit with spit and copious amounts of pre-come leaking from his partner’s cock. When the finger was dripping wet he inched it down behind Castiel’s balls and thrust it into his ass wriggling it in to the second knuckle. Castiel hiss then thrust up into Dean’s mouth before squirming down on the finger penetrating him. Dean followed him down swallowing as much of Cas’s cock as he could and the smaller man came with a hoarse shout.

Reluctantly Dean hitched his boxers back up staggering over to his own bunk. Quickly he crawled under the covers. The cell block grew still and silent. The few whispers and snuffled wheezing breaths evened into complete stillness. Dean grinned against the darkness. In these close quarters, no matter how quiet they tried to be, everyone heard everything that happened. There was no way that anyone would not know who Castiel belonged too now.

 

**Three Months Later**

 

Castiel stooped low over his bunk slowly retrieving his duffle bag carefully folding each item of clothing inside as he packed. He was getting out of prison. He should be overjoyed. He was free and he passed the bar exam so he had the prospect of being gainfully employed some day. Cas had no illusions that it would be hard; he was an ex-con and a convicted murderer as well. Never mind the reasons. But instead of being happy he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. He was leaving Dean.

The other man was casually stretched out on a bunk watching every move his cellmate made. Castiel glanced up at him, “I don’t want to leave you, Dean.”

“Hey I’ll be out in no time at all. You’ll be glad to get rid of me for a while, ‘cause I intend to hang around and make a nuisance out of myself as much as possible as soon as I hit the streets.”

Rising to his feet Dean walked over to the smaller man catching Castiel by the hips. He tugged until the smaller man walked a few steps forward moving into Dean’s personal space. He tipped his head back slightly so that he could stare into the slightly taller man’s eyes.

“I wish you were going with me.”

Dean shrugged grinning, “Hey don’t worry about me. You’ve got this, okay? You can do this.”

“I don’t think I can,” Castiel hissed quietly. “I’ve been here since I was nineteen. I don’t have anyone out there.”

“What about your Mom?” Dean asked. Castiel looked away shaking his head. Finally he pulled away stiffly and Dean could tell he had hit a sore subject. Gently he tugged Cas into his arms again. “What’s the matter, baby?’

“She hates me. All those long years that He…Zachariah beat on me. All the times that he yelled at her, belittled her then finally hit her and she hated me for killing him. For cutting off her meal ticket. She even testified against me at my trial. I did it all to save her and she turned on me. I’ve got no one.”

“Hey I may not be much but got me. You’ve always got me.”

Castiel curled into the other man’s arms hiding his face in the curve of Dean’s neck and shoulder. He sighed feeling a deep warmth spread throughout his entire body.  Dean closed his eyes, “I wish I could lay you down and say goodbye the right way, but its right in the middle of the day and that shithead Alistair might…”

As if right on cue the tall guard rounded the corner. With a lecherous grimace he whacked his baton against the bars with a resounding clang, “Break it up lovebirds. Come on Novak get a move on. You’re outta here. Unless you want to make a quick stop by the machine shop and let me have a crack at the fine little ass of yours.”

Stiffening Dean glared at the taller man, but Castiel moved between them, “Alistair if you ever come near me again…” he growled. The guard frowned shuffling his feet and patting the baton against the palm of his free hand. But something in Castiel’s eyes or the set of his shoulders cowed the other man and the guard stood aside. Cas threw the strap of the duffel over his shoulder stalking out of the cell.

The guards were rounding up the day shift workers and hustling them out to the dining hall before going to their various shifts so Dean missed the opportunity to see Castiel leave Granville. But he didn’t feel too badly about. He had done right by his lover even if the other man didn’t know it.

Castiel was seated in one of the uncomfortable molded plastic chairs in the waiting area right in the lobby of the administration building when the warden appeared. Two other prisoners flanked him of either side both dressed, as Cas was himself, in civilian clothes. The stuff they had handed Castiel was ill-fitting but close enough to at least make him look like a normal upstanding citizen. Glancing at himself in the highly reflective marble tiles of the wall Castiel could see a tall, thin young man dressed in a black trousers and a white dress shirt. On top of that was a slightly too large beige trench coat to stave off the late autumn winds.

The warden motioned all three men to follow him pausing at the door of the lobby and turning around with a blatantly fake smile on his lips. Castiel sighed feeling a laugh bubbling up in his chest. He could almost hear Rufus’ deep, gruff voice overlain by the feel of the sun on his back as they stood plastered against the chain link fence of the exercise yard. He supposed the older man would be at his job in the laundry washing and folding hotel sheets for twenty-five cents an hour. Pocket money they called it in the warden’s office, slave labor most of the inmates grumbled under their breath. Any way Castiel stood impatiently waiting for the warden to give his parting speech, the one the old man said he’d never have to listen too.

When the warden’s sonorous voice had faded and Castiel had shaken his hand he pressed the doors open looking across the open driveway of the admin building toward the short expanse of street that lead out to Oakland Boulevard and freedom. He had expected to take the bus into the city but a big black car was sitting in the turnout and tall, younger man with warm hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair was leaning on his hip against the door. Something about the shape of his face and his posture was all too familiar. The young man smiled stepping toward Castiel, hand held out.

Castiel eased forward head cocked to one side and the young man blushed, “Uhh, hi I’m Sam…Sam Winchester.”

“Yes,” Castiel said, “I’ve seen you on visiting days, talking to Dean.”

“Yeah, he asked me to come pick you up. He said you just passed the bar.”

Cas smiled, “Yeah, just a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t expect…”

“You know Dean,” Sam offered weakly then he flushed even more and Castiel decided that Dean had been fairly explicit in how well Castiel actually knew him. “Well, you didn’t think he was gonna leave you out here to fend for yourself?”

“No I guess not. So Dean said you were in school, at Stanford and that you clerk for a firm in town?”

“Yeah, I’m studying law too. I guess that two things we have in common.”

“Good,” Castiel said, “What do you know about sentencing guidelines, and how does your firm stand on civil rights cases?”

Sam gulped at the other man’s straightforwardness, but he smiled, “Mr. Singer…that’s the attorney I clerk for, is representing some of the Occupy Oakland protestors against the Oakland PD for injuries and damages they suffered when the city razed their camp.”

&*****&

Dean was seated on his bunk in the cellblock after dinner one night when the mail cart rolled around. Ash was pushing it and the younger man stopped at the open door to Dean’s cell. His cellmate, a twitchy black guy named Gordon Walker was still in the dining hall have come in late from the machine shop so Dean had the luxury of a private room for another fifteen minutes.

Ash picked up a thick bundle of letters held together by a big rubber band. He flicked the band off watching as it ricocheted off the bars and bounced toward Dean. The other man refused to duck on general principle. He grinned handing Dean two letters instead of the one he was accustomed to receiving from Sam. Tucking the letter from his brother under his pillow Dean inspected the other envelope laughing out loud when he caught sight of Castiel’s neat block printed letters.

Quickly Dean tore into the envelope pulling out a long sheet of white writing paper. He carefully smoothed the letter out then frowned when he noticed several large stains across the paper before he raised it up turning the page at an angel. The stains were larger at the bottom right corner and a few smaller stains scattered up the length of the page. Then Dean realized that the stains were not some spill but more of an angle as if they had been sprayed across the paper and he grinned.

Cas had made the stains on the page. Dean raised the letter sniffing the largest spot at the bottom corner. The scent was faint, fading now that the semen was dried, and a tiny bit crusty. But Dean inhaled deeply that warm slightly salty scent. Castiel had jerked off above the paper and come on it leaving his mark. Dean held the page closer then reached down cradling his own balls in one hand. His dick was already hard, leaking a little at the thought of his boy friend touching himself and leaving the evidence for Dean to hold close.

Carefully Dean laid the paper down on his bunk then squatted beside it. He hitched his \prison issued jeans down just enough to fish his cock out then began tugging in earnest. He had to be quick before one of the guards came through on their rounds. Closing his eyes Dean conjured an image of Castiel…his long lean legs bent as he straddled the paper. His fingers, so slim and elegant, stripping the length of his own cock flying faster as he neared completion. Then finally Cas throwing his head back, lips parted as he uttered a low, gravelly moan and came. That final thought, of Cas in throes of passion sent Dean spiraling out of control and he erupted with a breathy growl. Stripes of come painted the length of Cas’s letter and a small part of the sheets on his bunk. With a shaky hand Dean carefully blotted the paper with a tissue so he could read the letter when a voice interrupted him.

“Hey, maybe you want to give mine a tug too, Winchester.” Gordon’s dry voice caught him. Dean shot him a look then flipped his roommate the finger.

“Fuck off, Walker.”

Gordon chuckled settling on his bunk, “Yeah I forgot why do you need anything when you got the blue eyed, pretty boy waiting for you. Are you so sure he’s waiting all alone/”

“Yeah I am, because…unlike you Walker, I inspire faithfulness, and Cas would never mess around. He’s better than that, better that you and even better than me.”

Just as Gordon was going to make a snide remark Alistair walked around the corner and down the corridor, “They need an extra hand in the laundry again Winchester and the old man said you’d done it before so hustle your ass over there before the warden gets on my case.”

Dean made it to the laundry just in time to see Rufus loading one of the big industrial dryers with a heavy load of sheets. Quickly he hurried over helping the older man get the heavy wet bundles separated so that they tumbled in the dryer properly and dried without taking too much time. By the time they had wrestled the first basket of sheets into the dryer the second loads were ready to go into the washing machines.

Dean and Rufus worked for a couple of hours before the old man waved the younger over to the bench in the corner. “Come on Winchester my old knees are screamin’ at me. I got to take a rest break. The warden kindly provided some bottles of water in that bucket over there. I think there might be a couple of cokes in there too. Dean cocked an eyebrow at the old man when he fished the cans of generic store brand soda out of the half melted ice before remembering that Rufus called all canned sodas cokes whether they were actually Coke or not.”

Taking the two cans over to the bench Dean offered one to the old man first before settling himself on the bench and cracking open a can. Rufus took a long chug off the can then wiped the glistening tin across his forehead, “My now that hit the spot. So I heard that they’re releasing the first batch of non-violents this week. You know ‘cause of the budget crisis and all.”

“Yeah, I only been here six months. I think I’ll go in the next group.”

“Probably,” Rufus shot him a glare eyes narrowed, “So last week when my boy came by to see me he said he was living with your brother and working and some fancy-smancy law office.”

“Yeah, Sammy…that’s my brother, got Cas a job at the firm he clerks for. Cas said it’s working out real good for them both.”

Rufus nodded, “I’m glad that things worked out for that boy. ‘Bout damned time.  So you think you’ll be getting’ out soon?”

Dean nodded, “I’m counting on it. Cas is waiting. My brother has got his shit together and I can get over this little bump in the road and get on with my life.”

The old man snorted, “Grand theft auto is no bump in the road.”

“It is for a Winchester. My Dad said if there was an easy way to do something a Winchester never found it. I got my car back. That’s all that matters.”

“Wait you stole you own car?”

“Yeah, from a crooked mechanic. I’ll do the time just to piss him off.” Dean shrugged. Rufus laughed. And Dean turned to the old man. “So what are you in for? Come on. I know you well enough now that I can a handle it. Are you some mafia hit man?”

Rufus laughed, “Hell no, I owned a little corner grocery store. My wife and I worked our asses off for that place. Late one night some bastard came in to rob us. He got twitchy and well…my Gloria caught him off guard. He shot her. She died that night.”

“The police never got him?” Dean asked. Rufus scowled before turning back to the table. Finally the old man tossed the folded sheet in the basket.

“The police caught him alright. But what with the lawyers and the juvenile court judges he got a slap on the wrist. Involuntary manslaughter. He was out in eleven months. After he robbed a couple more convenience marts and a gas station he came back to my place and I shot the little rat bastard down. Courts decided it wasn’t self defense and I’ve been here going on forty years now. Killed him for taking my Gloria, so I figure it’s an okay price to pay.”

“That don’t seem fair,” Dean said. “He killed your wife and came back for you.”

“Courts said I couldn’t prove he meant to harm me just ‘cuase he came back to rob the place again.” Rufus added, “I’ve made my peace with it. Cas used to go on about sentencing guidelines and judicial misconduct after he got into law school. That boy is a real thinker for sure. Well, there’s nothin’ to do for it now. Way I see it there’s three sides of every story, your way, their way and the truth. I guess sometimes the truth is just the way you see it.” Shaking his shoulders the old man stood up, “Come on Winchester…these sheets…”

“Ain’t gonna fold themselves, “Dean added with a groan. “I know…old man, I know.”

Rufus chuckled, “You’re okay… Dean.”

The younger man swallowed heavily sudden choked up. With a smarmy grin he began folding the bed sheets in earnest.

 

Dean learned one thing in the year he served after Castiel was paroled that time in prison was what you make it. It was fluid one day rolling into the next when all he looked forward too was Sunday s and Sammy and Cas sitting behind that big old glass partition in the visiting room.

He petitioned the warden for conjugal visits with Castiel, but the prison board and therefore the warden was not amused. Dean was of half a mind to contact an attorney with ACLU and file a complaint that the prison system was prejudiced against same-sex couples when the warden had Alistair helpfully point out, while holding Dean’s head under the shower stream of icy cold water that conjugal visits were for married couples only. When he told Castiel the other man chuckled and told him to keep his mouth shut. He wanted his boyfriend back with his balls attached.

The next Friday Dean was called into the warden’s office. The lobby outside the warden’s office was crowded with a group of men. Dean settled into line with several others he recognized. The warden appeared shuffling several pages of typed lists, “Men the prison board has been in contact with this office. All of you here today have been exemplary prisoners and as such qualify for the early release program. Get your belongings together gentlemen, you’re going home.

After the standard “You’ve served your time, not get on with your life” speech as Rufus called it Dean found himself standing on the steps of the administration building. He wondered if anyone had informed Cas or Sam that he was being released but that was short lived. Glancing up Dean caught the sound of a familiar rumbling engine, and then a big grin broke across his face as the Impala swung around the curve of the driveway and pulled to a halt at the foot of the stairs.

The driver had barely pulled the car to a halt when the passenger side door swung open and figure barreled out. Dean was almost bowled over as a flurry of dark suit and beige trench hit him mid chest and he found himself with an armful of warm human being. Cas looked up and Dean drank in every inch of dark tousled hair and blue, blue eyes.

Heedless of the hoots and hollers from the exercise yard Dean pulled Castiel into him arms pressing a kiss on his lips. Castiel kissed back like he was a zombie trying to devour Dean’s face. There was a gentle cough from behind them and then a not so gentle yell as Alistair appeared, “Winchester take your boy-toy and shove off we got a bus coming in.”

Dean flipped the guard the finger behind Castiel’s back but the smaller man grabbed his arm pulling him toward the car. As Castiel headed for the rear passenger door Dean balked, “Hey just ‘cause I let you two knuckleheads drive my baby over here…”

“Let?” Sam replied with a grimace, “I drove over here because you got your ass thrown in jail.”

“Prison my man,” Dean said with a snort, “I got street cred.”

“You’re gonna get a parking ticket if you don’t get that heap outta here.” Alistair added. Dean turned as if he intended to advance on the other man but Castiel intercepted him.

“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not waiting for you to get out again. Come on let Sam drive.” He leaned forward shooting the younger Winchester a grin, “I’ll give you a blowjob in the back seat.”

Sam blanched then shook his head, “Not while I’m in the car you won’t. There’s just some things about my brother that I don’t want to know. And seeing his face when he…you know…that’s number one on the list.”

Laughing Dean allowed Castiel to lead him around the side of the car and they both slipped into the back seat. In spite of Sam’s dire warnings the ride back to the apartment was filled with much kissing and a little groping. By the time they rolled into the parking spot Dean was raring to go.

They left Sam in the kitchen when he mumbled something about getting lunch together for everyone. Stumbling through the hallway Castiel steered Dean down to the second door which was his, now their, bedroom. Dean kept trying to touch every available inch of the other man and Castiel finally pushed him a little bit away as he shucked his clothes. Dean took a few minutes to drink in his fill of his lover naked before hustling to catch up and in short time he was gloriously naked and pressed against Castiel again.

Dean pushed Castiel to the bed and the other man fell with a deep chuckle. He groaned audibly when Dean fell down beside him shaking the bed and running his hand down the smaller man’s side to his hips. Dean’s fingers traveled over Castiel’s body mapping every inch he could reach and Castiel grasped Dean’s arms and threw a leg over him rolling them so that he was straddling Den’s hips. Leaning over he reached into the drawer on his bedside table pulling out a bottle of Astroglide and a box of condoms. Dean chuckled pulling his hand out of Cas’s grip taking the box. Shaking it he waggled his eyebrows, “A twelve pack…feeling optimistic are we?”

Cas raised his own brow, “It’s been a year and half since we fucked last. We’ll be going back to the Walgreen’s before the weekend is out.”

Dean shifted taking the bottle of lube and dripping some on his fingers. Reaching around he slipped a finger between Castiel’s ass spreading him open with his thumb and slicking the silky lube over the tightly furled muscle. Castiel sighed eyes dropping shut until Dean pressed a finger in. With a growl the smaller man slid a hand down his lover’s arm pushing, “Damn it Dean get on with it.”

“God you’re bossy, baby, “Dean snickered but he slicked two fingers again and shove them into Castiel to the second knuckle. Cas hissed then ground down pressing Dean’s fingers inside. “I’m ready.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Castiel made a pfft sound then rose up onto his knees sliding his legs onto either side of Dean’s hips. With a grunt he quickly lowered himself down onto Dean’s cock letting out a long loud moan as the other man filled him up.

“Oh god!” Dean hissed, “Take it babe, just take it.”

“Oh yeah,” Castiel shouted, and the he snickered as the water in the kitchen turned on loudly. “I think Sam can hear us.”

“I’ll pay for his therapy, but if you stop now I’ll have to kill you.” Dean growled. Castiel laughed and raised himself up dropping back down. He rode Dean hard and when Dean felt his back locking up he thrust up sharply. Grabbing Castiel’s cock he began pumping vigorously until Castiel uttered a short harp yell and spurted hot come across Dean’s stomach.

Once his lover had come Dean pushed up into the warm pliant body above him until his own orgasm erupted filling his loved with his come.

Castiel shank down rolling to his side as Dean’s cock slipped out of his body. He moaned softly at the loss but Dean gathered him up, “Oh god I missed you so much.”  He whispered.

Castiel nodded, “I missed you too.”

Rolling one to one side Dean leaned down kissing the other man softly. “I mean it Cas. I never want to be without you again.”

“I’m here now, Dean. I’ll always be here.”

&*****&

 

**A Month Later**

Rufus was at his usual spot in the laundry room when Alistair came in the door. The older man shot the guard a surprised look. It was sultry hot and sweaty work in the laundry and the odor of unwashed sheets hung heavy in the air. The guard never made rounds in the laundry facility unless he had too.

Alistair frowned at him, “Get your shit together old man. You’re wanted in the warden’s office yesterday.”

Frowning the old man grabbed his shirt off the folding table struggling into it as he walked quickly back to his cell. His personal effects were piled on the end of the bunk in several copier paper boxes. Quickly he surveyed it and found that everything he owned was neatly boxed up. Alistair cracked his baton against the cell bars and shoved a bundle of second hand clothes into Rufus’ hands.

“Get a move on old timer. You think the warden has all day. Get a shower and get dressed your attorney is waiting outside.”

“My attorney?” Rufus asked shaking his head. It had finally happened all that head bustin’ had finally rattled the guard’s brains.

Washed and dressed with the two boxes tucked under his arms Rufus wandered to the admin building and found himself standing in front of the warden’s office. Suddenly the old man was reluctant to turn the door handle sure that this was some kind of a cruel joke. But the warden glanced at him over a stack of papers and waved Rufus into the office.

“You attorney showed up with a judicial order amending your sentence to current sentencing guidelines as outlined in the California Code of Criminal Procedure.”

Now Rufus glared, “My attorney…old Nick Morningstar was a middle aged man way back in ’71. He’d be ninety or so now if he ain’t dead.”

“Nicolas Morningstar is no longer your attorney of record. Don’t you read anything you sign old timer.”

Rufus grunted, “I’m getting’ mighty tired of folks callin’ me that.”

Scrambling to his feet the warden walked around the desk motioning Rufus to the door. The older man followed him down the hallway to the big double glass doors leading out to the driveway. The warden paused before pushing the doors open, “Well, Mr. Turner you’ve been here a long time. Since before I even came to these old walls. You were convicted by a jury of your peers and held accountable for your crimes. You have served your time here productively working to better yourself. I hope that you leave these walls a better man. Try and live the rest of your life as a law abiding citizen.”

The warden pushed one of the doors open and for a brief moment Rufus panicked. He had nowhere else to go and no one to go too. Until he glanced out the doors and at the foot of the stairs he caught sight of a huge old black car, a 1967 Chevy Impala if he wasn’t mistaken. One of his neighbors had bought one those monsters a few years before Rufus was sent to prison.

He glared at the figure leaning against the driver’s door, a smarmy grin plastered on his face. Then Rufus looked up. His boy was standing beside the passenger door, dressed in a black suit and a beige trench coat just a tad too big. He grinned and Rufus smiled back. Moving up the stairs Castiel took one of Rufus’ boxes in his hands and Dean moved to take the other one around to the trunk. Cas smiled at the old man, “Come on…let’s go home.”

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
